Just Friends
by lock shock and barrel
Summary: [Les Mis] Montparnasse and Eponine are only friends...Depending who you ask. [MontparnasseEponine fic]
1. I

Eponine meandered around town, totally engrossed in her own thoughts. She had just finished speaking with Marius who now made his way to the ABC Cafe. Every word he said she clung to, listening intently. How she adored him. Of course, he could never know that; he was content with having Eponine as his friend. _Besides,_ Eponine admitted begrudgingly, _Cosette is a much more worthy lady of his love._ She sighed. The tables had turned sharply. Eponine suddenly found herself thrown into the slums of France, while Cosette ascended above the horrid sewers to live in high society.

"'Ponine. Eponine. Hey!"

A sudden voice shook her out of her thoughts, bringing her backto the wretched streets. It was Montparnasse, her favorite of her father's gang. Urchin though he was, he always had friendly words and a joking tone.

"Oh. Hey there 'Parnasse."

"What're you doing with your head in the clouds all the time, eh?"

"Jus'...thinking."

"About that boy? Best stop dreaming; you aren't what he's after."

Montparnasse regretted his words when a hurt look spread across Eponine's face. But he had spoken true; the boy was madly in love with another well-to-do. And Eponine...well, she wasn't exactly in that bracket. Montparnasse pitied the poor girl. She so longed for someone who did not in turn return that love. He himself found a great friend in Eponine. The girl was a good person, smart for Thenardier's child. She was pretty, in her own way. Yes, Montparnasse liked her plenty. But if she wanted to pine after the Pontmercy boy, he would let her. A friendly gesture.

"Ah, don't let it get to you, 'Ponine. If you want my advice, don't go chasing something you can't catch."

"But I love 'im so, "Parnasse, you know that."

"Yeah, I do," Montparnasse replied with a tone of distaste. But Eponine was too love sick to notice it.

"'e jus' doesn't see me, no matter what I do."

"What _do_ you do?" Montparnasse was both worried and intrigued.

"_Anything_, anything to make 'im happy. I'd do anything for 'im."

"Seems a bit rash."

"'ave you ever even been in love, 'Parnasse? 'Ave you?"

Eponine's words came as a shock to Montparnasse; she had never dragged him into her own little world of romance. Had he ever been in love? He'd always been busy with crime, too busy to think about love.

"No. Love's a stupid thing and I leave it to the lovers." With that, Montparnasse turned to find Thenarider, leaving Eponine alone in her thoughts once more.

"Oh 'Parnasse...You jus' need to see..."


	2. II

"Leggo mah arm, yer twistin' it off!"

Thenadier's gang cackled as they tugged at the urchin Gavroche's limbs, torturing the young student.

"Tha'll teach ye t' rat us out," Brujon snarled, delivering a swift kick to the boy's ribs. Bored with the game, Montparnasse called off the other men.

"Alright, let the gamin go."

The gave Gavroche their parting blows before wandering away. Seeing the boy groaning and struggling to get up, Montparnasse sighed and moved to help him.

"Clear out, Ah don't need yer 'elp," the urchin snapped, now allowing Montparnasse to come near. When he finally did rise, he swung at the young man, catching him in the stomach before sprinting off for the ABC Cafe.

"Little bastard..."

Then, right on cue, Javert rounded the corner.

"Dear Lord," Montparnasse muttered, dashing off into the streets. He ran toward the direction of the inn; it was really the only place he was welcome. With all the rest of the street scum. With a complex plan in mind, Montparnasse managed to creep around the town without running into Javert. However, it took him nearly an hour to reach the in, and by that time he'd virtually forgotten what in Hell he was doing. With a final glance around, he slipped in through the door.

Inside, Thenardier lifted his head eagerly, only to be disappointed by the sight of Montparnasse.

"Oh. It's you."

"Nice t' see you too. Get me a gin."

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing. Go ennertain Eponine, she's buggin' all me customers."

Montparnasse grumbled some intelligible cuss, sliding off his bar stool and walking about the ramshackle inn to find Eponine. He found her sitting among the others, playing some sort of bar game or another. Montparnasse lightly took her by the shoulders and stood her up, moving her away from the drunken bar goers.

"Aw, 'Parnasse I was jus' havin' some fun."

"What, you wanna have fun? Ok, sure, let's go talk. Just as fun, less fights." Montparnasse herded Eponine toward an empty table before she could protest. They sat down, facing each other across the table.

"My father told you t' get me away from 'is wonderful customers, didn't 'e?"

"Maybe."

Eponine scowled, but couldn't be angry with Montparnasse. He spoke again.

"So I hear there's talk of revolution. Your dear friend wouldn't think of fighting with the lowlifes, I assume?"

"If it so concerns you, Marius _does_ plan t' fight for freedom," Eponine huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Ah, Marius is it? Well, a noble thing of him to help us gamins."

"Shut your mouth. I expect you'll be raidin' the dead with th' rest of 'em."

Once more Eponine silenced Montparnasse; her words were true, but still hurt.

"I'm offended. I thought I was your friend." He feigned utter shock. Eponine stuck her tounge out at him and shoved his shoulder. Montparnasse grinned and got up from the table, helping Eponine to her feet.

"I'll see you later, 'Parnasse. Marius said he'd meet me by the cafe." She wove her way through the tables and made her way out onto the streets. Montparnasse sighed.

"'Ponine. Chasing dreams again." He shook his head and joined the rest of Thenardier's gang in their rowdy games.


	3. III

Upon sitting down with the rest of the gang, Montparnasse was met with a flurry of friendly curses which he threw back. Having an abundance of drinks at the table, Claquesous slid a glass over to Montparnasse who took it gratefully. He hadn't drunken anything all day, and he had some thoughts he needed to dumb down with liquor. After a few rounds, the drunken men decided to start a drinking game.

"A'right," Babet slurred ,"le's give each other some stories an' if it's a lie, someone'll call ya out. Then you've gotta drink. An' if it ain't, then 'e what called the man out 'as t' drink."

The men at the table roared in laughter; it was a myriad of opportunities to get even more drunk.

"I'll go first," Brujon volunteered. "Er...I killed a man wit me own 'ands once."

The other men guffawed. Claquesous taunted Brujon between laughing.

"You ain't never killed a _fly_ with yer own 'ands before. Drink up."

Brujon grumbled and downed a drink. He turned to Montparnasse.

"Yer turn. Dazzle us."

"Uhm...I've never slept with a woman before."

This arose even more howls from the gang.

"Take a drink, mate. Tha's impossible," Babet snickered, wheezing as he laughed.

"Really, I haven't. God be my witness."

Brujon gaped at him. "What are ye, a queer?"

"No!" Montparnasse grew defiant. Brujon continued.

"Ah'll give ye ten francs if ye give Claquesous over there a kiss."

Montparnasse gave him a look of disgust, then gave it a bit of thought. It was a fair amount of money Brujon would be handing over; besides, Claquesous and himself wouldn't remember the whole incident the next day.

"What about me?" Claquesous demanded.

"Shut up, I'll give ya ten francs too," Brujon snapped. Assured he would be paid as well, Claquesous inclined his head toward Montparnasse's. Still not drunk enough to brush this off, Montparnasse was hesitant. He swallowed the rest of the gin in his glass and got up from his chair, moving closer to Claquesous. Babet and Brujon looked on anxiously, trying to contain their laughter before they imploded. "Make it worth ten francs, ya little shit," Brujon added to Montparnasse, receiving a dirty look shot his way. Closing his eyes, Montparnasse jerked his head forward, kissing Claquesous hard on the mouth, who seemed to be drunk enough to return the action. At this point, most people in the place had been looking over at the table, hoping to catch a glance of what would happen. A few suppressed sniggers were heard, but it was otherwise rather silent. Claquesous went even further, daring to put his tongue in Montparnasse's mouth, but by that time the other man had pulled away sharply. The inn then erupted into laughter as Montparnasse wiped his mouth on his sleeve and a dazed Claquesous stood with his mouth agape.

"Now pay up, you bastard, before I give you a taste of my fist."

Tears rolling down his face, Brujon dug around in pockets to fish out twenty francs, ten for Montparnasse and ten for the still oblivious Claquesous.

"I always knew 'e was a little queer," Babet muttered.


	4. IV

Eponine walked through the streets, with only the dull light of the moon and stars to guide her. A soft sigh escaped her lips; every time she spoke with Marius, he always diverted the subject back to Cosette. But she couldn't control him. He didn't belong to her. Still...it hurt her so. Her love for him was unbearable, and he could never know. A tear streaked down her face, glinting in the moonlight. She blinked back the hot tears welling up in her eyes, sniffing and drying her face with her sleeve. A sudden noise behind her made her jolt. She spun around, letting out a breath of relief when she saw who it was.

"It's only you."

"_Only_ me?" Gavroche strode up beside Eponine. The girl smiled; Gavroche's ego was larger than he was, but he was still an enjoyable child.

"Whatchya doin' out so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Me? Don't have to go t' bed. Why're _you_ out so late? Robbin' people?"

"_No_," Eponine shot ,"I was visiting a friend."

"Ah, that student Marius. I know 'im. Well t' do, right?"

Eponine sighed; no one saw Marius for anything more than his status.

"Why you always hangin' around that gang of your father's? Buncha curs."

"What 'ave they ever done t' you?"

"I'll tell ya what! Jus' this affernoon, they come by an' nearly tore me arms off." Gavroche spoke with a great deal of dramatic tones and gestures, nearly hitting Eponine with his flailing.

"I'm sure it's not all that bad."

"Figgers. Bet yer in with 'em too. C'est la vie, I s'pose." With that, the young urchin wandered off into the night.

"Where you 'eaded to, little gamin?"

"Told ya, I don't never sleep." And Gavroche faded into the night, leaving Eponine to walk back to the inn. By the time she arrived, the ordeal of Montparnasse and Claquesous had been resolved and she she came back to a quiet inn, thinking about her encounter with Gavroche.

"Papa? I'm back."

"Wha? Oh. 'Ponine. Missed yer friend. Got me a lotta customers." Thenardier laughed his usual hacking bark and went back to cleaning the bar counter. The gang was still at their table, slowly finishing up their last drinks before they would crawl upstairs. Eponine pulled up a chair in between Montparnasse and the sleeping Claquesous. Montparnasse looked like he had had a rough night.

"Wha's wrong, 'Parnasse?"

"Dear Lord, don't even ask."

Brujon and Babet cackled before Montparnasse shot them a glare. Babet reached over and prodded Claquesous in the head, waking the man from his sleep.

"Eh?"

This brought on another round of laughter from Brujon and Babet. Their friend clearly had no idea what was going on, nor that he had tried to stick his tounge in another man's mouth ealier that evening. Clasquesous grumbled and sat up, taking a few moments to realize that Eponine had come in.

"Aye, what're ya doin' 'ere?"

"I live 'ere, idiot." Eponine rolled her eyes at Clasquesous' idiocies. The other men at the table continued to laugh. Once they had quieted up a bit, Brujon leaned over to Montparnasse.

"'ey 'Parnasse. Wanna 'nother ten francs?"

Montparnasse promptly punched Brujon in the stomach and headed upstairs.


	5. V

Montparnasse lay in his bed, staring up at the rotting wood of the ceiling. Despite the numerous drinks he'd consumed, he still couldn't sleep. He shuddered; never again. Sliding out of bed, he crept out into the hallway, trying to avoid the floor creaking. Glancing about, he carefully made his way into the Thenardier's room. He knew Monsiuer Thenardier and his wife would be sleeping soundly enough so he could go unnoticed. Eponine tossed in her own bed, clearly restless. Montparnasse slowly approached and put his hand on her shoulder. The girl jolted up and sucked in a breath, shaking and whimpering.

"Shh, 'Ponine, it's only me."

At the sound of a friendly voice, Eponine calmed, closing her eyes and regaining her breathing. Montparnasse sat on the bed next to her, draping his arm across her shoulder.

"What's gotchya up, 'Parnasse?"

"Can't sleep."

"Me neither. I'm worried 'bout Marius. Wha' if 'e gets shot 'r somethin', 'Parnasse? I..." Her voice drifted off, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

Montparnasse furrowed his brow. "You've gotta stop thinkin' about that boy. He shouldn't be taking sleep from you."

"But I love 'im. So much, 'Parnasse. But 'e don't see that."

"Then stop trying to make him happy."

"I can't, I just can't. I'd die without 'im." Eponine began sobbing, burrowing her face in Montparnasse's chest. Her friend wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her. Once Eponine had quelled her weeping, she rested her chin on Montparnasse's shoulder, sniffing and coughing. She felt herself being pulled in closer, being warmed by Montparnasse's embrace. Nuzzling her head into his neck, she muttered a "Thank you." Montparnasse shivvered as Eponine's lips brushed against his neck, sending a jolt all across his body.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, running his fingers through Eponine's hair. They sat there for a moment, savoring each other's company as friends. Just friends.


	6. VI

Sunlight was just starting to peek through the clouds when Montparnasse stepped outside. Running his fingers through his ebony hair, he let out a breath. He had a throbbing headache and was in a horrible mood. The events of the previous evening came to his mind once more. God, he would never live that down. But later, when the inn grew silent with the night, he had felt as though all other things that had happened before then were meaningless. Eponine, her fitful sleeping. This was the only night he had paid any mind. And if she wasn't thinking of that damn Pontmercy boy. That boy, Marius. He just like the rest of the rich in the city, cruel to lead on poor Eponine with thoughts of love. Not that Montparnasse himself knew anything of love; it wasn't important to him. But whenever he decreed his standings on the matter, he couldn't help but think of Eponine. Certainly, he felt a love for her in the means of friendship. He was quite sure the feeling was mutual. Who did Eponine idolize when she was younger? Who entertained her when the days grew dull? Who did she cry to when she felt as though her heart were breaking? Whose arms did find she solace in?

With each mental question Montparnasse grew more angry. And who but little Gavroche came to make matters worse.

"'scuse me, messieur...Eh, wha'? It's only you. Back t' make another game of me, are ya?" The child glared up at Montparnasse through his masses of hair.

"Go find someone else to bother. Hand to God, I'll break your little ribs if you don't clear out."

"A poor li'l child like meself? 'ave ya no 'eart? Or is tha' Thenardier girl breakin' it for ya?"

Gavroche laughed maliciously and began walking along the gutter, putting his arms out to balance.

"I don't love anyone. I'm a gamin like you."

"_Not_ like me. _I'm_ an upstandin' memeber of society. Plus, I don't gotta live by no rules." With that, Gavroche hopped back into the street and pulled his cap further over his eyes, strolling about in search of food. Montparnasse had been utterly shocked by the gamin's comment. But he wasn't going to let a child have the upper hand; he had at least replied before being swarmed by a flurry of questions. The child was far too clever for his own good. Muttering, Montparnasse trudged back to the inn and prepared for another dose of humilation.

Outside the inn, Montparnasse was surprised to see Eponine, who he assumed was waiting for him. Her expression was a mix between confusion and anger, most likely annoyed that he had snuck out without greeting her that morning. Bit of payback, for her ignoring him ever since she met that Marius.

"Wha's wrong, 'Parnasse? Tell th' truth."

"I just need some time to think." He massaged his pounding temples; the fresh air had done nothing for his head. Eponine didn't appear satisfied with the answer, but did not pry further. For a moment they stood in silence before Eponine spoke.

"Can't we go inside? I'm so cold out 'ere."

"Give me your hand," Montparnasse demanded. Eponine withdrew her arm from her thin coat, reaching out her hand to Montparnasse who took it in his own. The girl's hand was frigid against Montparnasse's own warm skin. He cupped Eponine's hand in his own for a moment before the girl suddenly drew her arm back.

"Come here." Eponine warily drew near to her friend on his command, frightened a bit by his tone. She found herself being pulled in by her friend, instantly feeling heat course through her body. Montparnasse pressed Eponine against himself, feeling her hips dig into his own. He felt the girl shudder and cough quietly. Eponine soon became aware of her closeness to Montparnasse, and so broke away. She backed off and quickly entered the inn, leaving Montparnasse in the cold. The chill of her skin had stayed on him; his heat lingered on her. But the two whisked the moment away from memory. It was for the best. And so Montparnasse slipped through the door of the inn, once more reminding himself about the pointlessness of love.


	7. VII

Upon his entrance, Montparnasse could see that Thenardier had already out his daughter to work cleaning the inn. The other men had dispersed, no doubt preparing for a day of work. Montparnasse slunk upstairs.

"C'mon, hurry up. We got work t' do."

Thenardier shoved Montparnasse along, despite the young man's protests. But there was no physical way to resist the burly creature that was Thenardier, so Montparnasse quickly dodged into him room, slipping on his gloves and grabbing his knife. By the time he returned to the corridor, Thenardier was already making his way downstairs. Montparnasse followed close behind, leaving the in without much more than a nod to Eponine. And once more he was driven out into the cold, this time surrounded by his comrades.

"Alright, off with ya."

The men all went off in their own directions, hoping to cover more ground. Montparnasse wandered about the streets, seeing very few people. He debated whether or not to head toward the center of the city. Many people pooled there, but were more aware of those around them. He decided the city was his best bet and headed in that direction, hoping for success.

The town was always his favorite place. A colorful array of people, the gamins and pickpockets, the whores and drunks. And the few and far between rich. Jamming his hands in his pockets, Montparnasse made his way into the throng of people. A sharp breeze had picked up, tossing his black hair into his eyes. He burrowed himself deeper in his coat; it was becoming colder than even he was comfortable with. His eyes flitted back and forth, searching for a glimpse of money that may have been forgotten in the streets. Though he enjoyed the thrill of actually pick pocketing and was quite good at it, he wasn't in the mood today. And his begging days were over; he was too old for the sympathetic people to find him adorable. If he did not come back with anything, Thenardier would most probably throw him out for the night. Preoccupied with his thoughts, Montparnasse inadvertently collided with another man walking about.

"Sorry messieur," he muttered, keeping his head ducked in his coat.

"Watch where yer goin'. Damn kids..."

The man grumbled and turned to go in the other direction. Montparnasse noticed a wallet protruding from the man's pocket. Stealthily and yet ever so precisely, Montparnasse pulled the wallet from the man's pocket and was swallowed back into the crowd before the man suspected anything.

"Mmn, looks like I'm not the one who should be watching," Montparnasse purred, opening the wallet. Twenty francs. Quite a score for his first hit. Examining the wallet, he found it was unblemished by any identification.

"Might fetch a fine price. My thanks, messieur."

He slipped the wallet into an inner pocket of his jacket and continued to stroll around town. During his walk, Montparnasse found his thoughts reverting to Eponine. She seemed to fear him so. And it pained him, to see his friend pull away from him, to see her slowly wasting away because of something that was so idiotic. It was as though Eponine were dying and there was no way to console her. After all, what can you say to someone who is dying? Montparnasse gritted his teeth and tugged on a lock of his hair; he would turn in for the day. He was starting to feel ill and his headache had escalated into greater pain. In Thenardier wasn't pleased with twenty francs...Montparnasse couldn't really say he cared. And so he wove his way through the masses, slowly returning to the inn.

Once he returned, he saw that Eponine was still engrossed in her task. Montparnasse took the wallet from his jacket, tossed it on the bar counter and hung his jacket on the back of a chair which he promptly planted himself in.

"Oh. You're home early, 'Parnasse."

"Mmph."

Eponine smiled at him and rested her broom against the wall. She sat in the chair next to the scowling Montparnasse.

"Still in a bad mood?"

"Possibly."

"Why d'ya live offa crime, 'Parnasse?"

"What else can I do?"

Eponine sighed; she didn't know how to answer his question. She rested her elbows on the table, holding her chin in her hands. Montparnasse followed in suit, tilting his head so that he could still see Eponine. The girl leaned in toward her friend until her face was a mere inch from his. Montparnasse was ready to touch his lips to hers, but Eponine spoke before he could move.

"I guess you'll 'ave t' figure that one out yourself."

With that, Eponine got up from the table and went back to her chores. Montparnasse sighed and leaned back in his chair, awaiting the arrival of the other men.


	8. VIII

That night, Montparnasse found himself staring upwards again, restless. Thenardier had indeed called him out for returning so soon, but Montparnasse wasn't going to sit through the man's venting and so threw an insult at Thenardier and stormed upstairs. And now he could do nothing. He could not return downstairs; Thenardier most likely was still angered. Sighing, he went over to the window, wrenching it open and cringing as it squawked. He leaned his head out, taking in the cool night air. The sky was a deep indigo, and the first stars glinted in the heavens. But Montparnasse wasn't one to admire the beauty of the world; he always wanted to race along. Surmising that his window was not incredibly high off the ground, he climbed out, dangling above the ground for a moment before loosening his grip on the windowsill. Down he went, legs absorbing the shock of his fall. Allowing the breeze to rush over him, Montparnasse strolled his way off to town.

The square was much less congested, and the only ones on the street were the ones who lived there. A few beggars tugged at his pant leg, but he moved past them without a glance. With Thenardier taking all the money Montparnassse ever stole, he never had a thing to spend. He had barely been able to hide the ten francs he'd won in the bet.

"Why do I even work for the man?"

Montparnasse muttered beneath his breath, regretting leaving his jacket behind. He wandered about before concealing himself in one of the alleyways, blending in with the shadows. Leaning up against the cold stone of the wall, he closed his eyes and took in a breath. A little song came to mind; he remembered his mother sang it to him many years ago when he was small.

_"Night has come to still the land,_

_Stars, the only ones awake._

_Time for you to sleep, my dear._

_Dreams outreach, their hands you take._

_Surrender to the night, my dear._

_The sun now rests, and so do you._

_Never fret, I'm always here._

_Always know that I love you."_

Once he had reached the final line, singing in his hoarse, throaty voice, his words suddenly became whispers. _Always know that I love you..._He knew nothing of love; it had been so long since he had seen his mother. An orphan on the streets, learning that there was no pity and the weak will never survive. When the Thenardiers brought him in, he learned greed and conniving from them. And now...he had no idea who he was. Love was the one thing that never graced his presence. _Eponine..._Did he love Eponine? How could he know if he hardly knew what love meant? Eponine seemed to know.

"Is that all it is, then? Wanting someone til it hurts?" Montparnasse growled to the night, clenching his hands. "Guess I've known love all along."

------------

Miraculously, Montparnasse managed to sneak back into the inn going unnoticed. He slunk up to his room, aggravated and wanting to rest. However, someone awaited his arrival, sitting on his bed.

"'Parnasse?"

"'Ponine, what're you doing in my bed?"

"I'm not _in_ it, I'm _on _it," Eponine corrected, "and I was tryin' t' find you."

"Well I'm here. What do you want?" Montparnasse could see his harshness was saddening Eponine, but at the moment he just wanted to go to bed.

"I...I can't sleep. I'm sorry, I'll jus'-"

"It's fine. Just...lay down."

Eponine slowly climbed into the bed, and Montparnasse kneeled by her side. He began to hum softly, the song of so many years ago. When Eponine appeared to become more relaxed, Montparnasse went to singing.

_"Always know that I love you..."_

Eponine's eyelids fluttered and closed, her breathing slowed. Sure the girl was sleeping, Montparnasse carefully picked her up from the bed and carried her to her own room, laying her down and leaving quietly. When he returned to his room, he kicked off his boots and flopped into bed, not bothering to undress. As the night dragged on, he slowly fell into sleep, the wind whispering a familiar song.


	9. IX

Thenardier's gang was already out in town before Eponine awoke. Lying in bed, she strained to recall the lulling melody that lingered from the night before. For once, her mother's shrieking voice did not interrupt her thoughts. Even so, she was irritated that the song was but a haze in her mind. She sighed; it was pointless. Dejectedly, she sat up and swung her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. Hopping down, she smoothed her tattered clothes and slowly made her way downstairs.

"Yer down late t'day, 'Ponine."

"Sorry, Mama. Where's Papa gone to?"

"I 'aven't got an idea."

Eponine sighed. Her mother and father never really cared much for each other. And they hadn't cared about their daughter since she was a small child. So it was no surprise to Eponine that her mother didn't bother to ask where her husband had gone.

"I'm goin' t' find 'im, alright?"

"Don't know why ye'd want to, but go ahead."

Forgetting her coat, Eponine was thrust into the cold once she stepped out of the inn. _It's only for a bit..._With that, she walked against the freezing air to the town, hoping to find her father and his troupe.

She always hated going into town. So many wretched souls whom she wished to help, but simply could not. She could only look upon them in pity as they stared up at her with dark eyes, long deprived of a glisten of hope. Today she went past them as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the crying children and starving beggars. Among the crowd, she recognized Brujon, who appeared to be planning a way to steal some bread from a vendor. She decided not to bother him; Thenardier's gang was always close to snapping when they were on the job. Figuring the rest of the men would be in the general area, Eponine walked along, trying to find her father or Montparnasse. Instead, she stumbled upon Claqueous. Claquesous eyed Eponine for a moment, apparently confused on who he was looking at. Eponine wasn't surprised; excellent thief though he was, Clasquesous was never the most intelligent man Eponine had ever encountered.

"Oh. 'Ponine. Why're ye out 'ere?"

"I 'ave a right to be, don't I?"

"Well, yer father is 'eaded off to th' Rue Plumet, 'e said. Ah, reminds me...gotta catch up with 'im."

Claquesous wandered off in a general direction of the Rue Plumet, leaving Eponine silent in the streets.

"Cosette...Marius," she whispered, worry flooding her voice. Without another thought, she tore off for the Rue Plumet, hoping she would get there before the matter.

-------------

"'Parnasse, what's goin' on?" Eponine breathed, having just caught up with her friend. Montparnasse was hesitant to respond; he knew as well as she did who lived at the house. _What should I care? Serves her right, being blind all along._

"Your father, told us this'll be a good job this time." Montparnasse turned to meet Thenardier, who had just arrived with the rest of the men.

"That man, 'e'll pay fer what 'e's done."

"Enough, ye promised riches, let's get this o'er with," Brujon growled, impatient.

"Quiet yerself, lend me a 'and or you'll nothin'," Thenardier snapped back. Catching sight of his daughter, he snarled ,"Eh? Montparnasse, what woman's around ye now?"

"Idiot, it's yer own daughter. What's she doin' 'ere?"

"'Ponine, leave, yer slowin' us down."

"Papa, it ain't worth it. The people 'ere won't gain you anythin'," Eponine protested, knowing her words were total fabrications. Cosette and the old man were far from ordinary citizens. But should Cosette find her along with the gang...she would surely tell her dear Marius that his friend was no better than the rest of them. Eponine's heart would surely be torn in two then, if Marius were to turn his back on her. Thinking, she spoke again. "I'll scream. I swear I will."

"Don't you dare!" Thenardier bared his teeth, shaking in anger. But Eponine was defiant, scowling at her father.

"_Séjour loin, 'Ponine_," Montparnasse warned, knowing Thenardier would turn vengeful if his plans were foiled. Eponine, however, was affronted by the comment; Montparnasse never admonished her before. And so she screamed, anger blending with fear.

"Yer gonna regret this, 'Ponine!" her father roared, herding his misguided gang into the sewers. Montparnasse shot a final icy glare at Eponine, who returned the action before the men vanished underground. Holding back burning, bitter tears, Eponine gritted her teeth and ran, not caring where she went. It didn't matter where she ran, she would never get away. She would never escape this horrible, burning pain in her heart that was slowly killing her. Never.


	10. X

Eponine did not return until the next day. Fear had driven her to stay out for the night. The streets were better even than her father's wrath. When she did finally enter, the men were getting ready for another day. No doubt preparing to pick up quite a few things from the students who would be killed in the battle to come. She slunk upstairs as best she could, heading into Montparnasse's room instead of her own. Unlike she usually did, she made her presence known. However, Montparnasse was too absorbed in his own problems to care much about Eponine. As well, anger from the day before still hung over them, creating a very awkward space between them. Eponine sat down boldly on Montparnasse's bed, who still did not acknowledge his friend being in his room.

"What're you doin', 'Parnasse?"

"What does it look like?" Montparnasse was clearly in no mood to deal with Eponine's antics. Eponine scowled, but responded, unmoved.

"Like yer gettin' ready to do what ye do best."

"Clever you." Slipping on his gloves, Montparnasse rummaged around for his knife. Once found, he examined the blade; he most likely would not need it, but he preferred having it with him. Satisfied, he slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Please, don't do this 'Parnasse."

"You're getting in the way, 'Ponine." Montparnasse spoke in a threatening tone, beginning to grow irritated with Eponine.

"_You're_ gettin' in the way. I jus' wanna love Marius, and ye can't even let me do that." Eponine got up from the bed, temper rising. She approached Montparnasse so that they were face to face. "Why d'ya have t' bother with everythin'? Why can't you jus' let me live my own life? _Vous êtes dans le chemin_, 'Parnasse, you're in the way."

Eponine's voice lowered to a throaty growl as she spoke to Montparnasse, growing more and more annoyed with him. Before she could move, Montparnasse suddenly grasped the back of her head with his palm, pulling her closer in. Their lips met violently; Montparnasse opened Eponine's mouth with his own. Eponine tasted the lingering acrid flavor of liquor on Montparnasse's tongue. She was powerless against him, who continued his fierce act until it hurt Eponine. Montparnasse suddenly broke away savagely, leaving Eponine close to tears.

"Now I'm really in the way, aren't I?" he snarled, his voice hoarse and furious. He stormed out of the room. Eponine stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had happened. Slowly, she crumbled down and sobbed. Harsh, heaving sobs, letting every one of her emotions spill out onto the floor below her.


	11. XI

Students and revolutionaries scurried about, clambering over the barricade and racing about. Vigor ran in their blood, causing them to yell and curse. Marius was more reserved in his excitement, recoiling when an enthused student bore down on him with talk of battle. His eyes caught another young boy trying to take cover from the storm of war talk. Ducking away from the action, Marius strode up beside the worried-looking boy.

"Hello there. I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Wouldn't think so. I'm new 'round 'ere."

Marius frowned; something was off about this student. In a single motion, he took the cap from the boy's head, and a tangled mane of dark hair cascaded down.

"Eponine. What are you doing here? Eponine, you're going to get hurt, go home." Marius could see the anguish in Eponine's sunken eyes. With a sigh, he spoke again, returning Eponine her cap. "If you want so desperately to stay around, you can help me. Here, take this letter to Cosette, and be careful; don't get yourself shot."

Handing Eponine the envelope, Marius made his way back into the crowd of revolutionaries. The girl turned the envelope over in her hands before tucking it away in a pocket. These borrowed clothes barely stayed on her bony frame, but they would have to do. She piled her hair onto of her head and carefully placed the cap back on. With the letter in tow, she set off towards the Rue Plumet with a horrible sinking feeling.

----------

The streets were flooded with students milling about, chattering about their eminent victory and so forth. Montparnasse couldn't care less. He elbowed his way through the crowd, driven by anger and frustration. Near the towering monster of wood and iron they called the barricade, the herd of people thinned out. The air was much clearer, and Montparnasse was relieved. As he walked, his mind raced, leaving him oblivious to the world until he collided with a student.

"Watch yourself, boy," he growled. Before the boy could divvy away, Montparnasse grabbed his shoulder. Once he saw who it was, he tightened his grip.

"You stole my clothes."

"Borrowed 'em," Eponine corrected, wriggling away and glaring.

"What are you doing here? You trying to get yourself killed, is that it?"

"Like you'd care atall." With that Eponine turned to leave, dashing off and leaving Montparnasse to be swallowed up in the crowd. Grumbling, the young man pushed away his thoughts and prepared for the night when blood would run through the streets, feeding the greedy dirt. When the shadows would consume everything, even the hopeful light of the stars. Nothing would escape.


	12. XII

**A/N: This has been edited. It is perfect. It is amazing. I USED GRAMMAR AND SPELL CHECK.**

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A cold breeze made Eponine long for her coat. Threadbare as it was, it still deterred a bit of the icyness of the night. And so did a certain friend's arms. Sniffing, she blinked back tears before they could form. She had done her duty, why did she not return to Marius? _Because 'e doesn't love you._ She bit her lip, drawing blood. She knew it was true. Yet she didn't want to believe it; she wanted to believe there was some way, some chance for her to be with Marius. A sob rose in her throat, but she choked it back, ending up coughing and letting tears creep out. Why did she continued to pine after someone who barely noticed her existence?

The moon glinted dimly off a dirty puddle in the street, rippling like liquid silver. Gazing into the small pool, Eponine saw her shadowy reflection. She kicked a stone into the water, marring and distorting the image before walking again. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of Montparnasse's borrowed trousers, nearly pulling them off. Funny, how people change. A scowl crossed her face, creating dark lines upon her forehead. Montparnasse had never acted out against her before. No, he had always been a shoulder to cry on or someone to take her anger out on or a hand to hold. He was always there to take some sort of beating or another. And what of Marius? She loved him. But did he ever offer solace? What did it matter? Love was blind. And she would love Marius until the day she died, living her fantasies in dark corners and decrepit alleyways. She coughed again, now letting the tears flow freely and allowing heaving sobs to control her.

"'is world is full of happiness. I've jus' never known tha' world. Never will..." her voice, hoarse from crying, drifted off. No. Love and joy were things her life had never given her. She had been born into conniving and suffering and greed and had known nothing else. She had grown up learning to steal, not innocent even her her childhood. More burning tears spilled out from her eyes; she wiped at her face, rubbing it red. How could anyone love her? Such an ugly, wretched creature as herself. And yet there was Montparnasse. Eponine gritted her teeth, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. No. No one loved her. And no one ever would. So she ran, the icy air biting at her skin and tugging at her hair as she sprinted back toward the barricade. She needed to see his face again, just once more. Hear his voice speak about a woman that wasn't her. She wanted to be hurt by him, to feel sorrow and grief. Because she loved him. She loved him.


	13. XIII

He was a creature of the night. The pinpoints of light showing through the deep indigo curtain of sky calmed him; the shadows were his friends. Brushing his curled black hair away from his eyes, he gazed heavenward. No doubt the students questioned his dreamlike stature, but there were more important things to worry about. They scurried about, detouring around Montparnasse and causing general chaos. Still rallying support was Gavroche, perched on a tall student's shoulders and shouting at anyone who passed near the barricade. All the sounds of Paris were silent to Montparnasse. He was emmersed in his own thoughts.

"Comin' t' fight with us, are ya?" Having descended from his pulpit, Gavroche gave a friendly punch to Montparnasse's arm and was very nearly backhanded in the face. "Jesus, man, 's jus' a question."

Without an answer, Montparnasse left Gavroche to heckle the students. Personally, he wouldn't much mind if the boy got shot. Sighing he leaned against a side of the barricade, shifting a bit to avoid having a wooden wheel spoke digging into his back. Seemed the students had piled together all of their belongings, and probably a few they had stolen, to create the monstrosity. A small laugh escaped Montparnasse. He grumbled as a dark haired student made his way to where Montparnasse stood.

"New here?" the student inquired.

"S'pose you could say that. Any particular reason you keep that parasite you call a child around?" Montparnasse gestured toward Gavroche, who had gone back to his post on the tall student's shoulders. The dark haired student smiled.

"The boy is probably more eager than all of us. Why douse his spirits?"

To this, Montparnasse shrugged. He could probably dig up an answer, but he simply wasn't in the mood. Turning to the student, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Marius. Pontmercy," the student responded politely. Montparnasse's eyes narrowed.

"Ah. You're Eponine's...friend." The words were bitter in his mouth. So this was the boy that brought utter anguish to Eponine's life. Bastard. He was prepared to cuff the young man, when another student let out a cry.

"Ach, Enjolras! 's a boy runnin' right through th' streets! 'e's gonna get it!"

A good amount of the other students, as well as Gavroche, clambered up the makeshift barricade to get a look. Indeed, a shadowy form was making its way toward the barricade. Montparnasse peered out into the streets, out at the form. Well accustomed to the night, his eyes knew exactly who it was. All thoughts and notions of hate vanished. He bolted out into the streets, despite the shouted warnings of the students. A heart stopping crack was heard, resounding in the streets until it wisped away. Montparnasse fell instantly to the cold, hard ground. As the world spiraled into darkness, the light in his eyes fading and his mouth dripping warm blood, he managed a final rasp of speech.

"_Eponine..._"

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**A/N: You've no idea how hard the last chapter is to write. Ah yes, the end. If you liked it, I've more little goodies for you afterwards, once I put them up. I hope you've enjoyed this little angsty romance.**


	14. DELETED SCENE 1

**A/N: Here's one of the things I have for you. A deleted scene. This would probably have gone somewhere...in there...I just didn't feel like it moved the story along, plus everyone ('specially POTO phans like me) know the whole "let go of the one you love"shpeil, so it went bye-bye. You can read it now. **

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Night was Montparnasse's favorite time of day. Then, the town was crawling with those who never showed their faces in the light. People in the night lived off lust and greed, temporary pleasures that they always came back for. Closing his eyes, he stood in the wonderful air of darkness. A voice to his right suddenly intruded. 

"_Tu vienes, cheri_," came the coy words. Montparnasse, opening his eyes, saw the woman beckon to him.

"_Non, merci_, I'm not interested."

The woman frowned. "Wha's got ya down?"

"The matter of love." Montparnasse did not look the woman in the eye; how could he expect a whore to know anything about love? But he continued. "I love someone who's in love with another man. Well...not just someone...a...a friend..." His voice trailed off. Never before had Montparnasse been lost for words. Smooth, silky sentences were his norm. But the matter at hand was too complex for such suave manners.

"Bad buisness, fallin' in love with friends." The woman sighed and shook her head.

"And the man she loves...he hardly knows she's there."

"We can't choose 'oo we love, deary."

Montparnasse scowled and hunched he shoulders, burrowing himself into his jacket, hiding from the world. Voice muffled, he spoke again. "I do everything to make her smile. She keeps loving that damn boy."

Not wishing to make matters worse, but having no words of solace, the woman said what she had to. "Ya jus' gotta let 'er go. Only she knows 'oo she loves, ya can't change that. But love's a fickle thing. She'll come back. 'Night, messiuer."

"Wait." Montparnasse lay a hand on the woman's should, stopping her before she wandered off into the night. He dug around in his pocket, fished out two francs and held them out for the woman. "Thank you." Hesitantly, the woman took the coins, and Montparnasse was gone. He smiled sadly to himself as he melted into the shadows.

"No...she will never return..."


	15. DELETED SCENE 2

**A/N: Ah, yes. What many of you have been waiting for but deny it. This scene is detrimental to the plot because...I would have to keep referring back to it. So consider it a one shot. If it had been in the story, though, I'd like to note this is my longest chapter. Just goes to show where my values are.**

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Darkness flooded the inn, an eerie silence creeping throughout the decrepit corridors. The only notion of life inside was the thin shadow of Montparnasse, bathed in moonlight shafting in through the windows. Thenardier's gang had gone out for the night; they'd told him he was still "too young" for the job, but he figured they simply didn't want him around. _They don't mind the sow, though..._

A bit of perplexity hung around Montparnasse. He had not seen Eponine leave with her father, but nor had he seen her about the inn. Ah, well. He breathed in the calming air of night, slowly relaxing. A sudden rustling alerted him, and he held his breath. The faint sound seemed to have originated upstairs. With the concise caution of walking on ice, Montparnasse made his way upstairs, the rustling sound growing louder. Silently, he neared Eponine's room and gently pushed open the door. He found Eponine writhing in her bed, tearing at empty space and muttering nonsense. Fraught with worry, Montparnasse bounded to her side.

"'Ponine! 'Ponine, listen to me!"

Eponine did no such thing. Trapped in some horrible, fanatical dream her mind was contocting, the girl was unaware of her friend's presence and so continued to squirm. Without thinking, Montparnasse climbed onto the bed, straddling Eponine to stop her struggling. He held his weight up on his knees, knowing he was far larger than the girl, and pulled Eponine closer. For once, Eponie did not resist. Though her mind was still reeling, she was now conscious of the situation. Montparnasse lowered himself into a more comfortable position, weight rested on his elbows. He felt Eponine's frail, icy form beneath him; the girl was always cold, always shivering. Eyes fluttering, Eponine caught sight of who had awoken her and whispered hoarsely, "'Parnasse..."

"Shh, relax."

Eponine clawed around blindly until she found the collar of Montparnasse's shirt. Pulling at the fabric, she brought Montparnasse's face closer to her own, to which he had no objections. Tentatively, Eponine touched her lips to Montparnasse's, who completed the action in a less gentle manner. Eponine tasted faint liquor on Montparnasse's tongue, still lingering enough to be bitter. Moving her hands from Montparnasse's collar, Eponine fumbled with the buttons on the young man's shirt. Now it was Montparnasse's turn to be surprised. But not for long. He slipped the ragged blouse from Eponine's bony shoulders and continued to kiss her fiercely, making it more difficult for the girl to finish her task of unbuttoning. Once Montparnasse's shirt was undone, he felt Eponine's hands against his bare chest and jolted.

"God, your hands're cold."

Eponine laughed weakly and moved her hands to Montparnasse's neck. The young man gritted his teeth, but relaxed once the chill had gone from Eponine's hands. He felt her entwine her fingers in his hair, weaving her fingers through the tousled black locks. Montparnasse moved his own hands to unlace the makeshift corset Eponine worse, but the girl took her hands from Montparnasse's head and placed them on his shoulders, preventing him.

"Please, ah..."

Montparnasse only laughed and purred in her ear, "My turn."

With that he continued his job, Eponine accepting it and running her hands up to Montparnasse's neck again. Eponine's corset fell free, allowing her and Montparnasse's bare skin to come in contact for the first time. Eponine suddenly began to worry, but could not dwell on it much longer before Montparnasse enveloped her in a passionate kiss, diverting her thoughts and making her heart race. She felt the heat of her friend's body covering her completely, turning the cold on her own skin to a numb tingle. She felt Montparnasse's hands drift downward and settle on her hips. Eponine followed in suite, preferring to work at unfastening the time-worn belt around Montparnasse's waist. This arose quite a reaction in Montparnasse, who let out a throaty growl of pleasure. Amused by the noise, Eponine muffled a giggle that came to her mouth.

"Think that's funny, huh?" Montparnasse demanded jokingly, beginning to kiss Eponine's neck. Eponine flinched each time the man's lips brushed her skin, squirming and allowing a soft moan to escape her lips. Despite the games, Eponine managed to unbuckle Montparnasse's belt. Bit by bit Montparnasse was able to wriggle out of his trousers, further freeing himself of clothing. In turn, he slid Eponine's skirt down off her legs. Eponine felt how wonderfully they fit in the contours of each other's bodies, the tingling feeling of flesh on flesh. And for one time in her life, it was not the Pontmercy boy that ruled her thoughts. No, it was Montparnasse, filling every one of her senses with sweet desire.

Once unoppressed by any garments, the two savored the giddy feeling brought on by such closeness. A part of Eponine was panged with guilt, knowing she had slipped to be further devoid of innocence. But this guilt was soon swallowed by the wonderful, lustful feeling at hand. Nothing entered Montparnasse's mind, nothing from the outside world. None of it mattered. His mind was in too thick a haze to operate properly. A sudden sharp pain heightened Eponine's senses. She let out a pitiful cry, emitted a barely audible moan when the pain subsided. It did not cease, but was reduced to a dull throb, a numb twinge. Almost enjoyable, the bit of pain. Eponine's breathing accelerated, her heart beating itself against her ribs. As Montparnasse pressed himself further against Eponine, the pain increased. A whimper escaped Eponine, making her pain known to her friend.

"Don't worry, 'Ponine, calm yourself." The soft words of reassurance were spoken directly into Eponine's ear, making her shudder. A slight frown creased Montparnasse's face; Eponine was so very frail, even the slightest pressure on her bony frame brought discomfort. In a single motion, Montparnasse rearranged himself so Eponine could rest above him. Eponine was greatly exhausted, eyelids drooping and head resting on Montparnasse's chest. Slowly her hands drifted down, fingertips tracing her their path. Montparnasse groaned shakily, due mostly in part to the current position of Eponine's hands. Having gotten a reaction out of Montparnasse, Eponine returned her hands to the young man's shoulders. The pain had now stopped; Eponine resumed nuzzling her head into Montparnasse's chest, using her finger tips to trace nonsensical lines on his skin. Her eyes closed, and her breathing slowed.

"I love you," she murmured, becoming drowsy. The words brought a soft smile to Montparnasse's face. It was most likely that the girl was speaking with half a mind. And what a laughable sight they were, two ragged adolescents entangled in a game they hardly knew. Yet the words sent a feeling through Montparnasse so very different from any he had felt before. It felt that, for a moment, so much silent suffering had been uplifted. He did not reply; there was no need to. He simply let it be. As Eponine slipped back into sleep, she slid off of Montparnasse and huddled herself next to him. Montparnasse took Eponine up in his arms, cradling the girl as she fell asleep. Slowly, he himself succumbed to his weariness. Their breathing fell into syncopation. And two hearts beat as one.


End file.
